


a reunion worth dying for, or is it?

by niamhies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Guilt, Lots of Crying, Mentioned Wolfstar, Sirius dies, beyond the Veil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:15:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29743455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niamhies/pseuds/niamhies
Summary: Sirius wakes up on the Hogwarts grounds under bizarre circumstances, he was sure he had only been battling with Bellatrix moments before...
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & Harry Potter, Sirius Black & James Potter
Kudos: 7





	a reunion worth dying for, or is it?

The last thing Sirius saw before falling through the veil was his godson being held back by a distraught Remus. Sirius’ immediate thought was to reach out to them, ask them what was wrong, comfort them. But he could not move, and when he tried to reach his arms out, to run over to them, there were no arms or legs, only a blinding whiteness that overcame his vision and every other sense his body possessed. 

The last thought that occurred to him before he allowed the light to swallow him was a desperate plea, that what had just happened hadn’t just happened…

He awoke some time later, his fingertips able to feel the damp grass underneath him. When Sirius opened his eyes, he recognised the place immediately. With the moving tree swaying wistfully to his right and the large castle some distance away – he was at Hogwarts.

A peaceful feeling washed over him, and all the unhappiness he had experience in those fifteen years of wrongful conviction dissipated, as though they didn’t matter in the slightest anymore.

As he came to his senses, the first thought that entered his mind was Harry. His godson, who had not long ago broke into the Ministry, believing that he, Sirius, had been there, taken by Lord Voldemort and was being tortured for information. Under different circumstances, Sirius would’ve been honoured, and felt loved and full of pride, at the idea of Harry coming to his rescue. But seeing as none of it had been true, for he had been stuck up in Grimmauld Place since September, Sirius hadn’t had much time to mull over the gesture of it all.

Slight emotions of panic arose in him as he sat up, looking around. What was he doing on the Hogwarts grounds when he had been at the Ministry only moments ago? Where was Harry? He had to get to Harry…

Sirius stood up quickly, searching the deserted area for any signs of life, wondering what kind of bizarre curse Bellatrix had struck him with. 

It took him a surprisingly long time to realise why he wasn’t at the Ministry anymore.

His heart seemed to stutter erratically, desperate to break the confinements of his ribcage. He wasn’t… No… he couldn’t be…

“Harry,” he heard himself say, though it sounded strange coming from his mouth. His voice was younger, and more whole.

“He’ll be all right, Sirius,” a quiet voice said from behind him.

Sirius whirled around, instinctively reaching for his wand, but nothing was there. The man in front of him smiled a little at the movement, but his eyes were sad, and full of suppressed emotion.

When he laid eyes on him, at first glance Sirius had thought it was Harry, and his heart leapt with recognition. But then his brain caught up, not being able to understand his sentence – why was he talking about himself in third person?

And then, as he fully took in the man’s features, more mature than his godson’s, hazel eyes, longer nose, a lack of a lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead, Sirius’s heart seemed to come to an almighty stop. 

Nothing… nothing in the entire world could ever make him forget the face of his best friend. And at that moment, with his suspicions confirmed, Sirius was forced to come to the realisation that he must be dead.

“J-James?” whispered Sirius weakly, his stomach lurching.

James grinned, his hands in his pockets, and he shrugged. “Who else?” 

Sirius let out a sob as his entire frame shook, and his body reacted instinctively, closing the distance between two old friends and wrapped his arms around him.

“James… I- I’m so- so sorry,” he cried, burying his face into James’ shoulder.

His friend returned the hug instantly, holding Sirius tight. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Sirius.” James replied firmly, despite his voice wavering at the end. He placed his hand at the nape of Sirius’ neck, and Sirius almost crumbled to the floor at the long-forgotten motion that James often did when consoling his friends.

“There is, it was all my fault! I should’ve known-“

James untangled himself from Sirius at those words, giving the older man the impression that he had been expecting this, and placed his hands on Sirius’ shoulders, staring determinedly at him.

“Sirius, listen to me. None of it – absolutely none – was your fault. You didn’t… you didn’t make Peter sell us out, how could you have known?”

The fierce look on his face reminded Sirius so much of Harry – or perhaps it was Harry who had gotten it from his father – and he sobbed aloud, tears staining his cheeks. “But James, I should’ve stayed with Harry… I was his godfather, I shouldn’t have given him away to Hagrid and- and then he wouldn’t have had to go live with those Muggles. James, they mistreated him so badly, you-“

“Oh I know,” said James, his expression darkening. “And they’ll get what’s coming to them, trust me. I’ve been here long enough to see karma do its job. It will with them, it will with Peter, and it will with Voldemort.”

Sirius simply looked at him – the twenty-one-year-old body of his best friend did not seem to match the maturity and calmness it was displaying at that moment. The guilt was clouding his mind, and he needed James to understand what he had done, or what he hadn’t done, but what he should’ve… “But, James… I could’ve-“

“Padfoot,” James began a reminiscent smile on his mouth, and Sirius stilled at the old nickname, “what’s done is done. How long do you think I’ve spent here mourning over what could’ve been? How many times do you think I’ve tried to tear this place down, so I could look after my son the way he should be looked after, to defend him from that horrible newspaper, or make Remus’ life happier and help him out on full moons, or make you a free man? But I can’t, and I learnt that the hard way. We can’t change the past, Sirius. All we can do is watch and wait. A-and I’ve been waiting for so long…”

Eyes full of tears, James embraced Sirius again, who tried to register his friends’ words. An empty feeling settled into his stomach and the harsh reality sunk in. There was nothing he could do…

Sirius held on tighter as the tears fell once again, crying at the injustice of it all. “It’s not fair,” he whispered, thinking of Harry.

“I know,” replied James quietly, and Sirius knew he too was thinking of Harry.

“Harry-“

“-will be okay.” 

When they broke apart, Sirius noticed the blatant sadness in the other man’s eyes. He looked bitter, and helpless, and angry, and every other negative emotion there was, and Sirius’s heart reached out to him. 

“I have to ask you,” James began a little hesitant, “You have a choice, you see. To move on, or… become a ghost.” 

A small voice piped up in the back of Sirius’s head. If he came back as a ghost, he could see Harry again, help him… He could see Remus again…

But it wouldn’t be the same, would it? He’d be a ghost, transparent and unable to touch anything or anybody. He would never be able to place a comforting arm around Harry again, or feel the distant touch of Remus’ lips on his. And then, when everyone he knew was gone, who’s to say they’d join him in the limbo of life and death? He’d be utterly alone for the rest of eternity, because he had never moved on… His loved ones on Earth were not immortal – he’d see them again one day, wouldn’t he? Just like he was seeing James right now, after that unfathomable decade and a half without him. Looking back at it, Sirius didn’t know how he had managed it. He could never be separated from the man in front of him again, the man who had given him so much, and been one of his best sources of comfort during his youth. 

He glanced over at James, who was trying his best to hide the nervousness on his face, and felt himself fall into a tranquil state, the answer to the question prominent in his mind.

“What happens when you move on?” Sirius asked.

James smirked. “Well, I’m not going to spoil it for you. You’ve got to come and see for yourself.” James held his hand out, the offer outstretched in his palm for Sirius to take. “Come on, Padfoot. What’s life without a little risk?”

Sirius chuckled quietly, and slipped his hand into his friends own. A jolt erupted in the pit of Sirius’ stomach as he was blinded once again by an explicable force of whiteness. 

The next thing he knew, a smaller body was hugging him, auburn hair flying everywhere. 

“Oh, Sirius!” cried Lily as she leant back, her face searching his own. 

Sirius felt his mouth open slightly, realising he had never quite appreciated the moments he had spent with the young woman, and without a word, pulled her close into a very tight hug, hoping to transfer unsaid things through the embrace. “Lily.”

“We missed you so much, Sirius. All of us.” 

Sirius pulled back once again, a mildly puzzled expression on his face. But Lily, with her bright green eyes that Sirius could not stare into for too long, jerked her head to a group of people that were huddled together not far from them. 

It was Mr and Mrs Potter, his uncle Alphard, Dorcas and Marlene, Fabian and Gideon… Sirius had never been able to fully comprehended how many loved ones he had lost… The back of his mind screamed his brother’s name, wondering if he, too, was here, though he dared not voice it, in case he was. Sirius didn’t think he had the maturity to face him just yet. One by one, the small group pulled him into hugs of their own, muffled words of consolation and welcoming. When Mrs Potter finally let go, her face a blubbering mess that surely resembled Sirius’s, James steered him by the shoulder, where a large screen seemed to be playing a movie – though it was more realistic and clearer than anything Sirius had seen on a television. 

Lily was already there, her eyes glued to it in silent horror. 

“Lily?” 

“He’s- he’s possessed him,” she gasped, sobs racking through her body. “My boy…”

James' face etched into an expression of silent ferocity and utter despair as he wrapped her in a hug, also unable to look away.

Sirius stood next to them, taking in the scene, a feeling of awareness passing over him. A young man lay on the floor of the Ministry, writhing in pain, speaking words in voice that sounded so unlike his own. “Harry,” he breathed out, fury bubbling in his throat. 

Harry’s face was tear-stained, his green eyes lifeless and contorted in agony as Dumbledore tried to reach him, tried to consolidate him. 

“He went after Bellatrix. After you fell through the veil, Sirius. And then Voldemort turned up, he fought D-Dumbledore and-“ Lily’s voice cut off, and her cries overcame her as Harry screamed in pain. 

Agony like no other seeped through Sirius’ entire being. He could do nothing but watch as the boy he loved like a son let out a series of anguished cries. Harry begged for it to stop, begged for Dumbledore to kill him, so then he could be with Sirius again...

Silent tears fell down Sirius’ face at the words and they did not stop even when Harry stopped screaming – he shouldn’t have been so reckless. What had he been thinking? Going to the Ministry after being locked inside of Grimmauld Place for the best part of a year, he hadn’t duelled in years, of course Bellatrix had been able to kill him! As he watched Harry arrive back in Dumbledore’s office, Sirius had never felt so guilty. He truly had underestimated just how dependent his godson was on him, hadn’t he?

“It’s not your fault, Sirius.” James said from beside him, noticing the look on his friend’s face. “You wanted to save him – Snape had been taunting you for months, Dumbledore kept you locked up in that house that he knew you despised. He should’ve known you would jump at the chance to get involved in something like this.”

But Sirius took no notice of the words, burying his face in his hands. “How could I have been so reckless, James? Fudge saw him! If I’d stayed home, I’d be a free man by tomorrow! I could- I could get custody of Harry-“

“Dumbledore wouldn’t have allowed it, Sirius,” Lily spoke quietly, her eyes still on her teenage son.

“I don’t care what Dumbledore thinks! He has no authority regarding where Harry lives! None!” shouted Sirius, his rage towards the old man rising. He had had enough of Dumbledore and his meddling.

“Sirius, Harry could never have been taken in by anyone except Petunia,” Lily explained, her voice bitter as she spoke her sister's name.

“W-what?” questioned Sirius, his breathing ragged.

Lily glanced down at the floor, shaking her head dismally. It was James that elaborated, his tone resentful. “Lily sacrificed her life for Harry and by doing so, she put a protection on him. As long as Harry was living with the Dursley’s, Voldemort couldn’t find him, because the protection survives through blood. Harry has to stay with Petunia because she’s the only surviving of Lily’s relatives, at least until he’s seventeen. The protection breaks then.” James’ face looked pained as he said the words, and he swallowed a lump in his throat before carrying on, “They kept him in a cupboard, Sirius. His bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs…” his voice cracked, eyes watering.

“A cupboard? Like… For brooms and-“ Sirius cut himself off, and inhaled a deep breath, exhaling seconds later. 

“Trust me, I know how you’re feeling,” said Lily, “it’s unbelievably frustrating, watching Harry go through so much pain and suffering and not be able to help. Throughout all of this year when half the wizarding world was calling him a liar and making fun of him – after all he’s done for them! Well, at least we did our part last year during the Tournament.” 

“That- that was actually you, then?” asked Sirius, remembering when Harry had told him and Dumbledore about it.

“Of course, it was, Padfoot. Should’ve seen Peter’s face…” a ghost of a smile fell onto James’ face, though it dropped seconds later, and he seemed to remember a particularly grim memory, as he scowled at the floor. 

“Dumbledore’s returned,” said Mrs Potter, who had just returned from viewing the events of the Ministry. She stood in between James and Sirius, wrapping an arm around the both of them. “He explained it all to Fudge,” she grimaced a little at the mention of the Minister’s name, and James made a noise of disapproval. It comforted Sirius to know he was not alone in despising that stupid man. “It looks like they’ll be clearing your name soon, Sirius.” She looked up at the man she loved like a son, her hazel eyes warm with sympathy.

The moment Sirius had been waiting for fifteen years had come hours too late. What use was freedom now, when he was no longer alive to relish in it?

The cries of welcomes from the portraits of past headteacher’s brought Sirius back from his thoughts. Dumbledore had arrived in his study, a solemn expression on his face as he only had eyes for Harry. Taking in his godson’s appearance, Sirius had never loathed himself more than in that moment. He had done this, his stupid, reckless actions had caused Harry immeasurable pain.

“I know how you’re feeling, Harry,” said Dumbledore, his eyes expressing so much sincerity.

Sirius had not been expecting Harry to reply, especially with such hate behind his words. “No, you don’t.” Harry spoke in an eerily calm way, and Sirius could tell an angry outburst was about to erupt.

Lily reached her arm out, as though to attempt to grasp Harry’s arm, but her arm went straight through him, and she let out a quiet cry. James looked in no better shape and he watched his son with such tentativeness that Sirius had never seen before.

Dumbledore was speaking, but Sirius was not listening. His eyes and ears were only for Harry, the boy who deserved so much more. He would never stop blaming himself for this, not for the rest of this infinite forever he had. Sirius had envisioned this moment so many times before, reuniting with James and Lily, after he had lived a life, and was old and grey with Remus by his side. He was supposed to have kept himself alive for Harry, the most important thing in the world to him, to honour James and Lily, to show them how truly sorry he was. And he hadn’t. 

“Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human –“

“THEN – I – DON’T – WANT – TO – BE – HUMAN” Harry roared, his voice seeping with venomous pain that made Sirius wish he was deaf, so he could not hear the torment in his godson’s voice-

“I DON’T CARE! I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANYMORE-“

Harry was throwing anything he could get his hands on, shattering them against the walls of the office. James and Lily were holding onto each other so tightly, like they wanted to fuse together into one being. 

But Sirius walked towards the scene, desperate to get to Harry, to hug him and tell him how deeply sorry he was, how much he loved him. A thought occurred to him which sent his guilt spiralling like nothing before – he had never told Harry he had loved him…

He only realised he had collapsed onto his knees when they hit impacted against the ground, the pain in his heart unfathomably more painful than anything he had ever experienced. This was worse than the realisation that Peter was the spy, worse than seeing the horrific reality at Godric’s Hollow, worse than being sent to Azkaban for crimes he did not commit… 

He was vaguely aware of someone pulling him up, and wrapping their arms around him, whispering words of comfort in his ear – but they did not register. All he could do was watch Harry breakdown in front of him, unable to reach him, unable to tell him how sorry he was.

Sirius had always thought he would welcome death, and that he would be one of the last to join the oncoming oblivion, after all was well. But as he stood in the unknown, listening to Dumbledore tell Harry of the prophecy made so many years ago, he had absolutely underestimated his will to live. Whoever told them the afterlife would be a blissful paradise had been a cruel fool, because Sirius hadn’t felt this unhappy since Dementors were closing in on him, making him relive the worst of his memories.

The guilt of this night stayed with Sirius forever, and it changed him eternally, despite being much too late to make any difference to his life. Even when Harry joined them many years later, and embraced him like an old friend, tears of reassurance trailing down his face as he promised he had never blamed Sirius, the sinfulness of his actions had been so sewed deep into his subconscious that not even Harry himself could convince him to forgive himself.

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone, hope you enjoyed this small fic! this is my interpretation of how sirius handled his first moments of death, and feel free to leave a comment telling me what you thought.
> 
> also, just like to note, i don't support jkr or any of her transphobic views. if you do, please don't read any of my fics again, thanks :)


End file.
